


Gold Threaded Words

by OliviaMarie



Category: Naruto
Genre: Naruto is Gender Neutral, Never to Be Completed, Orochimaru doesn't defect, Orochimaru is tired of Jiraiya's bullshit, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 20:23:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19258534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliviaMarie/pseuds/OliviaMarie
Summary: After the Kyuubi is dealt with Orochimaru cleans himself up and notices a mark that wasn't supposed to be there. A mark he had quite hoped to never receive, especially at the age he is now.A random soulmate idea I had that I have no clue where I was going with it. I am not going to finish it and it is now just a one-shot.





	Gold Threaded Words

The marks come in many different forms. From words to names to oddly shaped colours. No one ever loses a soulmate before they meet; the mark shows that you will meet no matter the circumstances. Statistically, less than one percent get their mark from the first meeting of their soulmate, but those who aren’t marked live in hope that might be them instead of the alternative of not having been born with one. Orochimaru doesn’t want a mark, is happy being alone. Jiraiya still teases him about not having a mark, but it’s become a friendly joke rather than the malicious baiting it once was. 

It’s why it comes as a surprise to see the golden ink etched across his chest over his heart. ‘Chi-Chi’ is spelled out in messy writing, the second ‘h’ backward. The day before he hadn’t had this mark—nor had he had it early this morning when he’d dressed for battle against the Kyuubi. He knows that no one has ever called him Chi-Chi—that no one has ever said it to him either—and yet at the age of 50, he has a soul mark.

A hasty knock comes at his front door, before the heavy sounds of Jiraiya’s footsteps come in and the door slams behind him. Orochimaru pulls his sleep robe off of the chair in his room and tugs it on, hiding the marks from Jiraiya’s eyes. Jiraiya looks a little crazed, a tiny bundle in a blue blanket clutched tightly to his chest with one arm. In the other arm is a bag that resembles the one that Kushina had been gushing about at the baby shower a week ago.

“Can I stay here for the night?” Jiraiya asks, making himself at home regardless of what Orochimaru might answer. Orochimaru is used to this, and blames his old teammate's lack of residence—Tsunade is quite the same, but she hasn’t been in the village for nearly two years.

“Clean up any mess it makes,” Orochimaru says, trudging to his room and closing the door behind him. Jiraiya will just have to make do with the couch, perhaps a chair if he doesn’t find a good position to hold the child in.

In the morning Jiraiya is gone, a note in his place next to the child that’s trapped between books on the table. Orochimaru wonders if Jiraiya even knows that a baby this young is incapable of rolling, but ignores the thought. The child is wailing and he wouldn’t be surprised if those on the other side of the village could hear.

“Cease you’re crying, child.” He snaps, and the baby stops crying to reach a tiny hand towards him. Wanting to be sure the crying has stopped he picks the child up, cradling it gently. He grabs the note next and rolls his eyes after reading it. Typical.

‘She looks too much like them—besides what do I know about babies?’ it says in Jiraiya’s theatrical scribble. If he was here Orochimaru would kill him, but as it is the man has fled. He always seems to flee from his responsibilities right when he is needed most and once again Orochimaru is left to pick up the slack. 

It’s a minute later that he notes the smell coming from the child and the crying starts up once again. He glares at the bundle but sets it on the table again to retrieve the supplies that he will need. He has never once changed a diaper, but he has seen it done before. He starts unraveling the bundle and he is horrified to see the golden etched words in his writing crawling along the child’s left clavicle.

This has to be Jiraiya’s fault somehow.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I do not plan to finish this, so please refrain from asking.


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